


Murtagh

by Dragonwolf_Dreamwalker



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 08:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18657082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonwolf_Dreamwalker/pseuds/Dragonwolf_Dreamwalker
Summary: Galbatorix is dead, the war is over, Murtagh and Thorn are finally free. Now what?





	1. Leaving Home

Thorn yawned and shook the snow off of himself. The cave Murtagh-brother-of-mind-and-heart found was too small for him to fit inside. That was okay, though. Thorn didn’t much care for cramped spaces such as caves. Even the cavernous room that was Galbatorix’s hall, despite being large enough to fit the giant dragon Shruiken, was too small in Thorn’s opinion. He preferred to see the big-open-endless-sky and the yellow-orange-warm-sun. _What do you think is up there?_ He asked Murtagh.

“Where?” Murtagh replied, pulling on his cloak and leaving the cave. 

_In the sky, above the mountains. Above where even the birds fly._

“I don’t know,” Murtagh gave his red dragon a grin, “perhaps we’ll have to go up and find out.” Thorn hummed at the thought. If nothing else, the idea made Murtagh feel good. Thorn liked it when Murtagh was happy, which was something that happened more often, now that they were free from Galbatorix. 

The days had been passing by slowly since they left Uru’baen, something Thorn knew Murtagh was thankful for. Their lives had been nothing but conflict and pain, more than two decades of it for Murtagh. They had gone north, into the northernmost parts of the Spine, to get away from the pain of the past and to find their place in the world. The cave, high on one of the tallest mountains, overlooking a now-frozen lake, had been where the pair called home for over a month, after another two of wandering. 

In that three months' time, neither so much as thought about their past. They were, instead, content to just enjoy their time together, in peace and freedom. Murtagh had to come to terms with his past, though, and now, he was ready. Thorn knew Murtagh’s every thought -- they never severed their mental connection with each other, now that they didn’t have to -- but Murtagh felt the need to put into words what had gone on. 

Murtagh took a deep breath, enjoying the cold, clear mountain air. “I still can’t believe we’re free. I grew up knowing nothing but pain, and fear of pain. For the first time in my life, Thorn, I can be who...what...I want to be.” 

_But..._ Thorn lead him on, even though he knew the rest of the sentence. 

“I...don’t know what that is.” A tear rolled down his cheek. Thorn brushed his snout against him, ruffling Murtagh’s long hair with his breath. “I miss Nasuada. I want nothing more than to see her face again. Such strength...no one else had ever been able to stand up to Galbatorix like she did.” 

_She had you to thank for that, at least in part. You kept her grounded when he tried to make her lose her grip on reality._

Murtagh sighed, “you’re right, but I’ve never even seen anyone get that far. Only one other person even drove him to use the burrow grubs, and just the threat made that prisoner break. Nasuada withstood them burrowing into her _feet_. I don’t think I would have been able to...” he shuddered at the thought. 

_Let’s discuss happier things. She’s the Queen now, isn’t she?_

“Mmm, yes, that’s what I hear, anyway.” 

_Things ought to have settled down for her now...as much as events can settle for a queen, anyway._

“I can’t...I...I’ll only make things hard for her again. No, it’s still too soon.” 

_Then let us fly and allow the winds to take us where they please._ Thorn made his thoughts even more musical than they usually were, eager to stretch his wings. 

After a moment, Murtagh agreed. Thorn crouched down so Murtagh could put his saddle on, then climbed up the spikes on his foreleg to the giant red dragon’s shoulder. After Murtagh secured his legs in the straps on the saddle, Thorn dove off the cliff, wings tucked close to his body. After a few hundred feet, he opened his wings and redirected his momentum into an upward climb. 


	2. Following Footsteps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorn brings Murtagh to the first stop on his long journey towards redemption.

It was midday when Thorn landed in an open field in one of the valleys neighboring the Spine, a ways south of their mountain home. The snow covered the ground, but he could make out a stone structure a few hundred yards from where they had landed. As if he was afraid it would disappear if he looked away, he kept his eyes on it as he unbuckled himself and jumped to the ground. 

“Where are we?” He asked Thorn. The dragon didn’t answer, but Murtagh knew.

Carvahall.

“Is this...? Why did you bring me here?”

_Eragon is still your brother, and Garrow was your uncle. This is your home as much as it was theirs._

“But why here? Why not in the town?”

_We both know you needed to see this._ Thorn was right. Part of coming to terms with his past was to see, first hand, what Eragon also went through. _Ours weren’t the only lives that Galabtorix tried to ruin. We may know that on an abstract level..._

“...but it helps to see what individuals went through. Starting with Eragon.” Murtagh had to admit, Thorn was right. By that time, they had reached the stone that Murtagh saw when they landed. Brushing away the snow, he realized it was a chimney. “Snjár rísa,” he whispered, and the snow in the area lifted off the ground. “Ganja.” The snow drifted into the field and fell to the ground.

What he found underneath made Murtagh tremble and fall to his knees. The charred remains of the humble farmhouse seemed to drip with the sorrow the Raz’ac wrought, so many years ago. It was as if the land itself was still in pain. “I can only imagine what Eragon felt when he arrived here to see this all burning.” What wood that wasn’t burnt was rotting from exposure to the elements. “No wonder Eragon chose to not move back here after the war.” Murtagh shuddered again. If he could feel the pain in the area, he couldn’t even imagine how it made Eragon feel, even beyond the memories themselves.

Murtagh slowly sifted through the ruins, trying to find something that hadn’t been destroyed, but the Raz’ac -- and nature -- were thorough. All that remained was rubble.

_Shall we go into town?_ Thorn asked.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

_You can’t hide forever, and how else can we change how others view us?_ The dragon replied as he crouched down for Murtagh to climb up. Murtagh nodded. Thorn was right, they couldn’t mend the rifts -- nor their reputation -- without getting back into the world. Besides, with Eragon in the East, and Arya with her own duties, the old Empire could use another experienced Dragon Rider.

"Let's walk, though. There seems to be a road there," he gestured toward a line where the snow changed level. "I want to see it how Eragon did." The dragon hummed and stood back up and the two set off down the road to Carvahall.


	3. Rebuilding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having reached Carvahall town, Murtagh finds the buildings aren't the only thing in need of repairing.

Within a short time, Thorn and Murtagh were standing just outside the town of Carvahall. It had largely been rebuilt, but there were still some ruined buildings, and Murtagh could see the remains of the fortifications the citizens had created in their last stand against the soldiers of the Empire.

“You should probably wait here, for now. You still sometimes forget your own size, and these people don’t need any more destruction. We also don’t need to be trying to intimidate them by marching a dragon down their main street.” Murtagh patted Thorn’s leg.

Thorn huffed, displeased. _Fine. Don’t expect me to just sit by and watch if trouble happens, though._

“You don’t need to hide. This town is just not built for a dragon. I’ll call if I need you, you know that.” Thorn snorted, still not happy with Murtagh’s request, but laid down where he was to rest -- but not sleep! -- as the Rider headed into town.

From his position near a field, building a grain silo, Albriech was the first to spot Murtagh coming into town. “What are you doing here, Kingslayer?” Albriech spat.

“I am looking to redeem myself for the wrongs I committed in the past,” Murtagh responded, his hands away from his body in a gesture of peace, “I know I can’t make up for all of them--”

Albriech cut him off as he climbed down from his perch, “you’re right, you can’t. So why don’t you crawl back to the hole you came out of and leave us alone. Haven’t we suffered enough at the hands of your family?”

Murtagh was taken aback at the sheer vitriol of Albriech’s statements. _He can’t be talking about Eragon, too, can he? We’re brothers after all, making him part of my family._

_Does Baldor think the same, though?_ Thorn replied.

_Probably not,_ Murtagh replied in disdain. _Fair enough, I suppose._

Before Murtagh could reply to Albriech, however, Baldor and Horst appeared from the smithy. “Albriech, do you forget that Murtagh had a hand in the death of Galbatorix? Were it not for him helping Eragon, we would not be back here,” Baldor chided his brother. “Come, Murtagh, what brings you here?”

Murtagh relaxed slightly, but he could feel Albriech’s eyes boring into him like burrow grubs and it kept him tense. He focused his attention toward Baldor and Horst, “I want to help rebuild the town. I know the townsfolk suffered greatly from the war, and I had no small part in that suffering. I wish to change that.”

Baldor nodded, but Albriech spoke first. "What? So you can sabotage us? Maybe even murder us?" Even Horst glared at Albriech, but Albriech kept going, "he double-crossed Eragon multiple times, and even turned on Galbatorix! Who's to say he won't do the same to us! No, I don't trust him, and I like to think I never will. Besides, all of our troubles started with his family. Eragon brought this whole war down on ours heads to begin with. Or don't you remember that bit?"

Horst's eyes set fire. With gritted teeth, he said, "Baldor, why don't you take Murtagh to see Roran? I suspect he'll have use for both of you." Knowing they didn't even _want_ to stick around for what was about to happen, both Baldor and Murtagh hurried to the other side of the farmhouse. Even still, they could hear Horst as he struggled to keep his voice from carrying too much while he gave his son a verbal lashing.


End file.
